


Warm Me

by KoolJack1



Series: Hannibal Kink Meme Prompt Fills [7]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:25:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoolJack1/pseuds/KoolJack1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written For The Prompt:<br/>http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/2676.html?thread=4725364#cmt4725364<br/>Some nasty, sadistic bugger captures Hannibal and hurts him. A lot. Okay, so they flat out devastate him. The big meanie often sends the FBI video of the ever worsening condition of their favorite psychiatrist. As the footage count grows, Hannibal goes through stages that lead to his decent into a pitiful state--sobbing and begging uncontrollably for Will and Jack to please help him, find him, etc. I'd prefer it if he didn't want to be 'put out of his misery,' as I personally think he loves himself too much to ever actually want to end his own existence. He just wants and, really, needs to be saved. Up to you what's done to poor Hannibal to force him into this highly undignified and piteous state, what the sadist behind the camera wants, who they are, why they chose Hannibal, how much insight into what's been done to Hannibal is given in the videos and all the wonderful details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When he walks into the building and Jack is already ushering him into his office with no further explanation, he knows something has happened.

It's nearly 8am and Jack had called and insisted he come now. This second; shoes, socks, pants, shirt, but not in that order and come quickly.

"Is there a case?" Jack had already hung up.

There's a small television set up in the corner of the room, Alana is perched in a chair near the desk. He stands near the door and his eyes take it all in, making no sense of it. Alana turns; her eyes are red with shed tears and Jack's face is stone as usual. He clears his throat uncertainly and his eyes drift to the floor.

"When was the last time you've seen Doctor Lecter, Will?"

He looks up then, his eyes focusing on Jack's nose, "Two days ago."

"That was the last time you talked to him?" He nods jerkily, sadly. He wished it hadn't been that long. He'd never admit it or show it, but he has yet to think of a way to express his desire to spend more time with the man he'd dared to consider a friend. Now wasn't the time for this.

Jack and Alana exchanged a glance before Jack clicks the remote and the screen comes to life. Will stares at it blankly, staring directly into the man's eyes. A man sits in a chair in the center of the screen, his body is secured to it tightly; ankles, arms, chest all taped tightly to the wood beneath him.

His blonde hair is tussled all about his head, it's usually styled form ruffled. He's wearing suit pants and a white button up and Will tires to remember if that was what he was wearing the last time he saw the man. The collar of the shirt has a blood smear on it and it's untucked and dirty now. The buttons around his neck are undone, and one lower down is missing completely. He saves the face for last. Will's not sure what he was expecting to see there, but there's blood dripping from his nose, mouth, and cut above his eyebrow. Despite the blood, his expression is hard and cold; he almost looks bored.

Will's fists he hadn't realized he'd made loosen at his sides at the small comfort that Hannibal isn't afraid.

It isn't a live feed, and it takes Will a moment to realize that Hannibal is glancing around to avoid looking at something out of the cameras view. He does it long enough to aggravate his captor and a man dressed in a black body spandex suit appears. Hannibal looks up at the man calmly, even as a fist connects with his cheek and the chair rocks back and forth.

He doesn't even cry out when he's hit again and again, "When I ask you to speak, you will speak."

Hannibal is disturbingly quiet even as he's hit hard enough to send the chair toppling sideways and crashing to the ground.

Then the feed cuts out.

Will stares at the black screen to avoid watching Alana wipe the tears from her face. "This was dropped off right outside the door last night. I've already had someone analyze the background noise and try to determine when and where this was taken in some way. The outside camera told us nothing, the man wearing the same thing as in this video ran up dropped it off and ran off camera view again. The background noise is just a hum but the techs believe it's a produced hum to block out any other noise. The lighting is artificial and the plain white wall behind him could be a back drop of some sort. We have nothing."

Will swallows thickly and stares down at the ground. "What could they possibly want with him?"

"I couldn't imagine. There haven't been any other kidnappings lately, certainly nothing like this. We went to Lecter's home and office and we found nothing to give us hints of where he was taken from or who he was taken by. His cars are at his home and all the doors were locked." Alana finally spoke up without taking her eyes off the floor.

"We're going to start by going through his lists of patients and interviewing them."

Will felt himself sway with uncertainty.

-

It's nearly five days before they receive another video. They find this one with the rest of their mail. It's obvious waiting for the guy to make the drop is out of the question. Another case divides Jack's attention and man power, but he doesn't request Will to change cases.

Will and Alana interview everyone they can think of, finding Lecter to have no known enemies. All the leads turn up empty.

Frustrated, Will returns to the office to find another package just outside the door. Alana and him both skip the elevator and run up the stairs to get to the office, yelling for Jack as they barge into his office and put the tape in.

Hannibal is in the same chair, his eyes look tired but his expression is still unreadable. His shirt is gone completely, blood drips from new wounds on his taut skin. Will is relieved that the black slacks are still on.

He stares unblinkingly as the other man in the black spandex appears again, He wastes no time, a taser pushed into Hannibal's ribs without warning. Still the other man doesn't cry out, his body tenses and his eyes shut but he makes not a sound.

"Ready to cooperate?"

Silence.

Another push, this time over the right side of his chest. This time Hannibal struggles a little more, the chair creaking under him.

"Say it."

More silence. This time the man reaches down for the front of his pants.

"Oh God," Alana whispers, her knuckles pressed against her mouth.

A flash of...something passes through Hannibal's face and Will feels his stomach turns over as realization washes over him.

Hannibal's head hangs and he closes his eyes tightly when the other man's hand removes his member from his slacks.

"You will pay for this." Will wants to be relieved to hear his friend's voice, thick with his accent, but he feels even worse.

"Not what I wanted to hear," and he presses the taser against his most tender area.

The cry isn't nearly as loud as Will had imagined it would be, but he still feels his knees get weak under him. Alana sobs and covers her eyes. Lecter is gasping for air and Will can't look away from his face.

"Hello F.B.I. You're probably wondering who they are and why they chose me. You will not have a reason, and you will not find me until they want you to."

The words are rushed and rehearsed, and the captor takes a step back when Hannibal finally speaks them. His voice is strained and Will can see his body hunch against his bindings to try to fold in on himself.

The feed goes black and Will rushes to the bathroom to throw up.

-

Six days later they receive another tape; an intern finds it this time on the hood of their car and gives it directly to Jack.

They watch Hannibal get injected with something this time. He looks worse. He's naked and covered in blood and dirt. The chair is gone, and his limp body just lays on the floor now. Will looks closely enough to see the tremors running through Hannibal's body after the drug is administered. He's rolled onto his back and his eyes blink up at the ceiling in confusion. He's left completely naked now, they can hear his labored breathing breaking the hum in the background.

Will doesn't realize his breathing is matching the man on the screen.

The drug washes over him slowly and the confusion is replaced with quick blinks as his sight blurs and his eyes cross and then a blank stare at the ceiling as his mind looses the ability to focus on his sight and he's seeing something else.

"Lecter," the man says as he reappears. He crouches and slaps Hannibal's cheeks to rouse him.

"Stay with me, Lecter."

Hannibal mumbles something that doesn't sound like English and the feed goes black.

Will hurries towards the television to eject the tape and get it to the techs to analyze. They all already know they wont find anything new.

-

It's a week later before the next tape, and it's agreed on they receive each tape a day later than the last one. It's been nearly three weeks since he'd been missing and each day between the videos arrivals make Will sicker and sicker.

He can hardly function, he just sits and watches the tapes and scribbles ideas down and drives around checking out leads he made up in his head. Alana is extra quiet now, she just smiles sadly when he bounces ideas off of her.

When the feed comes on, Hannibal is hanging from his wrists in chains. His head is limp against his chest, and Will doesn't think he's sleeping.

Maybe unconscious. Will silently hopes he is so his mind isn't stuck where his body is right now.

A sudden burst of strong water hits Hannibal so hard it's audible over the camera. It knocks the wind out of him, his body sways in the chains and Lecter cries out.

"Pay attention."

He tries to lift his head but he can't hold it still, and the man reappears on camera and holds it up by his hair.

The muscles in Hannibal's toned arms strain to hold his weight and he blinks at the camera and licks his lips. He tries to talk, but voice dying in his throat and the man holding his hair tugs hard enough to make him wince.

"Do it."

The threat is obvious and Lecter closes his eyes and shakes his head no.

"Please."

The voice is so quiet, and Will's heart clenches painfully. He's afraid this is the last video. He's afraid of losing his one and only friend forever and they never find him.

He's afraid he'll fail and never find him.

"Please what, Lecter?"

"No more."

The captor goes off camera and returns with a blowtorch and Jack and Alana are on their feet and closer to the television as if that will help.

The emotions are clear this time, Will feels the pain and fear crash down on him as if they are his own.

"No."

"Say it."

He's breathing heavily and tugging at the chains, eyes squeeze shut.

The fire turns on.

Words in another language, desperate and pleading.

He's pleading.

Will feels bile in his throat.

Whatever it is just say it, he silently begs.

"I'm the Ripper."

The chains give a few seconds later and Hannibal crashes to the floor in a heap before the feed goes dead.

-

When eight days pass and there isn't another video, Will fears the worst.

Ten days later and he sits watching the front door to the building, completely numb.

He'll take another painful video if that means knowing his friend is still alive and there's still a chance.

"Go home Will, we have a lot of people looking for him. Sitting here all night wont help. We need you at your best." Even Jack has given up. Alana hasn't come around or answered her phone in two days. Jack sent someone by to check on her and she requested to be left alone.

Will feels like a zombie when he drives home.

It's snowing steadily when he arrives home, his breath coming out of his mouth in cloudy puffs.

He almost steps on him when he goes to his front door.

Hannibal is laying on his side, nearly covered in snow.

Will nearly throws up with a million emotions as he falls to his knees and uncovers his friend's body.

"Hannibal." The man's lips are blue, his skin completely white and freezing to the touch. He isn't even shaking, his body temperature so low his brain decides to save it's energy for heat instead of trembling.

He touches the man's skin and he whimpers in pain, "I know your skin hurts, it's okay. It's alright now."

He sits the stiff man up and tries to drag him inside. Hannibal is whining in his throat at the pain of being touched with such warm skin is bringing.

His normally focused and emotionless eyes are glassy and unfocused. He blinks up at Will, his numb fingers grasping weakly at Will's arm as Will tries to hoist him up.

The wind howls and Lecter finally shivers weakly, his body melting towards Will's heat instinctively. "I'm going to get you inside and warm you up and call an ambulance for you okay? You're better now."

Will feels tears wet his cheeks and he struggles to get his arms under Hannibal enough to get the man inside. To his credit, he tries to help; his numb feet trying to find a perch on the ground.

Will manages to kick the door closed behind him, shushing Hannibal as gently as he can while the other man stutters out useless half words in a different language.

"You have to speak English if you want me to understand, but don't talk right now." Will tries to remind himself to be calm, and he tuts at his dogs as they get to close as he grabs a blanket off the back of his couch and wraps it around the shivering man on the floor.

Lecter struggles away, his drugged mind clouding his judgement and he squirms in the pain of the warmth.

Will stops him, grabbing the blanket from his bed and returning to wrap him tightly. He glimpses at Hannibal's body and takes notes of all the marks on his skin. "A warm water bottles help right? There's a lot of snow waiting for an ambulance will take too long." He's talking to himself, trying to coax his friend out of the fog he's fallen into.

"Warm water," he repeats, the blood singing in his ears as he struggles to get his friend into the bedroom.

"Ja..." Hannibal can't finish.

"English, remember English," he reminds while he drags Hannibal onto the bed. The other man fumbles to help, clutching the blankets to himself.

"Stings."

"How long were you out there?"

"I ca-can't...don't."

It's a frustrating struggle, and Will reaches out to comfort him quickly. Hannibal stops trying and Will goes to warm up water in the kitchen, filling water bottles with it. He takes a bowl of the water with him. Hannibal is burrowed into his bed, and he pushes the feelings rising in his chest away.

Now it's the time.

Never is the time.

He peels the blanket back and recalls his training; tucking the water bottles under his arms and placing one between his legs without looking down before covering him again. His skin is slightly pink, and Will lets relief rush through him at realizing he'd gotten home just in time before this became dangerously serious.

He checks his phone and sees Jack has answered. He's sending an ambulance but the storm is pretty bad.

He looks down at Hannibal on the bed, his eyes closed and his jaw slacked. The man on the tapes was the same man he knew before, and he's the same man that is laying on his bed right now. The man he knew before is the same man that is laying on his bed right now; wrapped in his blankets with water bottles pushed against his body.

He finally lets himself feel, and what he feels scares him.


	2. Chapter 2

Will flutters around the room uncertainly, anxiety rushing through his blood at a pace that keeps him from sitting still. Hannibal's body is twitching uncomfortably on the bed, and Will talks to him quietly while the other man grips weakly at the blanket Will wrapped him in. "Will," Hannibal whispers hoarsely, his body squirming towards the edge of the bed to get closer. "Will he come back?"

Will turns to him then, taking tentative steps closer. He's bad at this, terrible at this actually. He doesn't know how to handle the distress of others. It was the most lucid thing Hannibal had said so far, and Will comes to sit on the bed near him. In his drugged mind, Hannibal stares at him through slits, his eyes barely open. "No, I won't let him."

Hannibal's head rolls to face him, and Will reaches out a gentle hand to touch his skin. He flinches away, but Will can feel he's warmer than he was before. "Snowing?" His eyes close again; he's too tired.

"Yeah, it's still snowing badly. How are you feeling? I can try to get you to the hospital," Will's eyes drift over the man's face down to his body that's enclosed in blankets.

"Dizzy," Hannibal untangles his hand and reaches for Will blindly, his breathing slightly accelerated. Will's eyes go wide, his eyes trained on the bruised hand that finds his shirt sleeve. "Can't think straight."

Will clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, "You were drugged, just relax."

He gives in, reaching up and taking Hannibal's grasping hand in a way he hopes is grounding.

"I can not recall how I arrived here," he admits, his bleary eyes opening to stare up at the ceiling, "I can not recall anything."

Will wonders if he should tell him about the tapes, and then remembers he has to be sensitive and the uneven breaths of distress tell him now isn't the time. Will licks his lips, "That's okay. You don't have to remember right now." The limp hand tightens on his and tugs Will towards him. Will can fight it if he wants, trouble is that he doesn't want to. He lets himself fall next to Hannibal's snuggled body.

"Stay," he says quietly, shivering slightly under the blankets. "Hurts," he whines quietly, his body twisting towards Will. He doesn't act this time, just react. He lets himself react the way his mind wants to, and he lets Hannibal come to rest against his chest. He feels, he feels too much. Hannibal is drugged and in pain, and when it's over it will be like this never happened.

He debates if he can handle that as he timidly brings a hand down to stroke Hannibal's matted hair. He imagines at a different time, the blonde strands would be soft to the touch. More quiet mumbles; broken half words, in a language Will had never heard before he'd heard Hannibal speak it on the tapes.

"Easy, you're alright. I'm not going anywhere," Will promises quietly, Lecter twitches against him and Will tightens his arm around him. "I'm so sorry this happened, I'm sorry. It's my fault I couldn't find you sooner."

Lecter licks his chapped lips and Will can feel the breath that comes from his mouth caress his chest, and he's disgusted when he feels his body stir under his jeans. "Nobody's fault."

He thinks of all the times he'd dreamed of having this man's weight pressed against him, that same warm breath wafting across his skin. Picturing himself pressing his fingers against that skin hard enough to bruise.

To think that if Hannibal hadn't been returned, that chance would have passed him without him ever thinking about if he could accomplish it.

Without him ever letting those feelings stirring in his chest come out.

He vows that now he's been given a second chance, he'll wont let it pass. Not this time.


End file.
